How the Bad Element Stole Christmas
by Larabee's Lady
Summary: In this ATF AU Christmas story, the guys prepare to help disabled children. But Chris has plans of his own that could earn him a lump of coal.


(Note: Regionalisms are all mine and I make no apologies for 'em; Midwestern American born and raised.)

**How the Bad Element Stole Christmas**

Ezra looked up with an impish grin as Chris hurried into the office, shaking snow off his blond hair and yanking off his scarf.

'It's a bad sign when the team leader is late, Mr. Larabee," Ezra chided. "I expect you to overlook the next time I come in."

Chris shot an icy look at him that lowered the temperature of the room by several degrees before disappearing into his office. The team exchanged looks. Buck stood up and ambled into Chris's office, closing the door behind him. He eased into the chair across from his team leader and just studied him, not saying a word. Chris did his best to ignore him, trying to look as if he was engrossed in the open file on his desk. At last he looked up, impatient.

"What?"

"Nothin'."

"The truck wouldn't start, okay?"

"Did I say anythin'?" Buck stretched his legs, calmly crossing his ankles. "That's the third time in - what - a week? You oughta consider replacin' it."

"No."

Buck shrugged. "Well, if it was a horse, you'd 'a shot it by now." He stood up to go. "We're taking the gifts over to the Rocky Mountain Children's Home on Christmas Eve tonight. Are we still gonna be able to use the truck? Or should we put in a requisition for a dogsled?"

Chris snorted. "As if any of you guys would ever fill out a form."

Buck opened his mouth to retort.

"Correctly," Chris added. Buck's mouth snapped shut and Chris leaned back to regard his friend. "Seriously, all of you did a great job raising the money for the kids."

Buck grinned. "It was the shoppin' that was the fun part. Spent all night wrappin'. It's in the conference room."

Chris nodded. "Tell the team to knock off early for tonight."

"Seriously?" Even as he was asking the question, Buck was headed for the door in case Chris changed his mind.

Chris smiled to himself and shook his head. He glanced at his watch and listened to the sounds of his team happily grabbing their coats and jackets and heading out the door. A half an hour later he looked up at last and stretched. It was getting late. The malls would be closing for the holiday in less than 3 hours. He shrugged into his ski jacket and snapped off the light and turned toward the elevator. His boots crunched under the frozen snow as he headed across the parking lot to the lone vehicle still parked there.

Chris climbed into the Ram, pulled off a glove and slid in the key. Nothing. Damn. He muttered a stream of curses, ignoring the icy puffs from his breath. He raised the hood and tinkered a little with wires and connections and then climbed into the cab to try again.

The engine made a harsh growling noise as if annoyed to be awakened. Chris prayed silently. The guys would need his truck tonight, and somehow he needed to get it to work. Or he needed a new truck. It wasn't like the home had a van he could borrow. A new truck suddenly sounded like a very good idea.

The engine roared to life and Chris sat very still for a long time, gazing out over the snow-covered asphalt, his hand still on the key in the ignition. His mouth set in a grim line and he pulled up sharply to the front of the building. Leaving the engine running, he hurried inside and took the elevator up to the conference room. He was a man on a mission, already praying for forgiveness.

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Buck turned on his headlights as he braved the icy streets in the early minutes of a rush hour made even more crowded by frantic shoppers. "I'm starvin'. So whaddya want to eat?"

JD had been hungry an hour ago. "I don't care," he said crossly. "If you'd gone to McDonald's when I said, you wouldn't be hungry now. But you just had to hit the mall for one last present. I bet you don't even know her last name, do you?"

"McDonald's," Buck scoffed. "That ain't food. 'Sides, her last name is...It's..." He frowned. "Well, it doesn't matter what her last name is as long as she can kiss like she does."

"You'll just call her 'Baby' or 'Darlin' or 'Sweetie' just like you do all the others."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I know a place. And the gal behind the counter--"

"Just drive before I start eating my gloves."

JD sighted and shook his head as Buck slowed down for a red light. He gazed forlornly at the fast food places Buck was ignoring. An Arby's. A Hardee's. A mall. With a food court, as he recalled. Another mall. A Subway. Mall. Car dealer. He straightened suddenly as he recognized a familiar figure in the lot talking to a salesman.

"Hey, isn't that Chris?"

Buck leaned forward to glance out of JD's window. A horn beeped impatiently behind him as the light went from red to green. "Looks like it, yeah. Finally buyin' a new truck, I bet."

JD frowned but said nothing as his stomach rumbled loudly.

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Nathan glanced at his watch, and pressed the gas pedal. The car's engine roared in the ATF's empty parking lot. He glanced at Josiah who was again bent over the dashboard. "An' stop fiddlin' with the heater. You ain't left it alone for even five minutes."

Josiah sat back. "Can I help it if I'm cold?"

"Then leave it alone."

"Well, now I'm hot. You'll see when you get to be my age," he added.

"If they was all on time, you wouldn't be cold."

"Here comes Vin. Wanna try calling Chris again?"

The jeep pulled alongside and Vin rolled the window part way down. "Heard from Chris yet?"

"Still no answer. You?"

Vin shook his head. "No luck. I see Ezra made it."

A large white rental van turned into the lot and pulled up. Ezra climbed out and hurried to stand between the other two vehicles. He was already shivering in the bitter Christmas Eve night.

"You have no idea what kind of strings I had to pull to procure that vehicle. Given that Mr. Larabee is inexplicably incommunicado, we can only assume the Ram is on the back of some tow truck somewhere."

Nathan turned his attention to another set of headlights. "Is that Buck and JD? 'Bout time. Jolene ain't gonna wait all night to let us in and get everything under the tree."

Buck stopped the car and he and JD joined the others. "Whee, it's colder than a spinster's--"

"We know," Ezra broke in, trying to ward off any unwelcome mental images. "It's cold, all right? Where's Chris?"

JD pulled off a glove to blow on his fingers. "Looks like the Ram's finally been done in by the cold. We last saw Chris at an auto dealership."

Ezra arched an eyebrow. "On Christmas Eve? The Ram must have been D.O.A."

"Look," Vin interrupted. "Can we get this done? Ezra, you move the van closer to the doors. Buck and Josiah, you can help stack everything in the back of the van. Me, JD and Nathan'll get the stuff and hand it to you. Everybody got it?"

Josiah and Buck climbed into the back of the van as Ezra brought it around to the front. They kept the doors shut and the heat running until at last, Vin could be heard pounding on the back doors of the van.

Josiah looked at the empty hands of the three men. "What's the matter? Couldn't you get in?"

"They're gone," JD blurted.

"What? What d'ya mean they're gone?"

Vin nodded. "They're gone. Everything. Every last package. Everything we wrapped. It's all gone."

Nathan's outrage was palpable. "What kinda low-life would steal from a bunch of disabled kids?"

JD looked at the other five shocked faces. "What are we going to do? It's Christmas Eve."

Buck shrugged deeper into his jacket, jamming his hands into his pockets. "C'mon. The drug store is still open a few more hours."

"Oh, lovely," Ezra muttered, rolling his eyes. "What are a bunch of kids going to do with Old Spice gift sets?"

Buck ignored the comment. "Josiah, you and Vin report it to the police as a theft. Ezra, JD, Nathan and me are goin' shopping."

"With what funds?" demanded Ezra warily. "We spent all the donations on toys."

"You got a gold card."

"That's for emergencies."

"Know of a better one than this?"

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Josiah and Vin climbed into the jeep to take refuge from the cold. Fumbling in his pocket, Vin pulled out his cell phone to call the Denver police. Josiah watched him as he described the truckload of missing presents and the logistics of the building. At last he snapped the phone shut and sat staring into space.

Josiah waited a few moments, then finally broke the silence.

"Are we waiting for Santa Claus to arrive? Because if we are, I hate to be the one to tell you, but...he's not real."

Vin looked at him with a wry grin. "Sorry. But I was thinking of that call to the Denver PD...Go over it with me. Who has access to that conference room?"

"Hmm...Well, all of us have keys. Travis. The janitor."

Vin shook his head. "The security guard said he only saw Chris."

"Wouldn't he notice Chris driving a forklift full of wrapped boxes?"

"Not if he took the freight elevator. You only pass the guard's station by the front door. And he's the only one on duty. All that coffee, a guy's gotta head for the john some time."

"Now wait a minute...Are you suggestin' Chris...?"

Vin stared unseeingly out the windshield again. "I don't know what I'm suggestin'. C'mon. Let's head for that drugstore."

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Chris had finally finished everything he had planned to do. Now all he had to do was meet up with the guys and help move the packages. He glanced at his watch. No doubt they'd already started so he had to hurry. He pulled out his cell phone to call the guys. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice the red lights flashing in his rear view mirror. A siren, though, got his attention and he pulled over.

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The drugstore was empty but for a couple of bored-looking clerks and a few patrons besides the members of Team 7.

"Looks like a stampede," observed Nathan. He turned over a toy still in its box only to find it half-crushed. He put it back on the shelf with a sigh.

JD was looking at the marked-down gift sets. "Coffee. Salami and cheese. Fajita pan and salsa. Assorted make-up. A set of shot glasses. Old Spice."

Ezra arched an eyebrow. "How old are those kids again?"

"Not old enough," Nathan retorted as they turned down the store's decimated toy aisle of torn and broken packages. Discarded boxes littered the floor and the shelves were half empty.

"How about this," said JD, holding up a box just as Vin and Josiah joined them.

Ezra smiled. "A dancing hamster?"

"Well...There's not a lot of choices left. I'll ask the clerk if they have any more in back."

Ezra looked thoughtful. "Batteries aren't a bad idea. Every kid needs batteries."

Vin nodded in agreement. "True. Helps if they have somethin' to put 'em in, though."

"Details, details. Let the little urchins be creative. Toys are too high-tech anyway."

"Bah humbug to you, too," muttered Josiah.

Just then JD appeared. "Hey guys, I talked to the clerk and--"

"And they only have dancing guinea pigs?"

"Shut up, Buck. That clerk who helped us at the toy store at the mall -"

"Pamela," Buck interjected with a smile.

"Whatever. She was by the register buying some stuff. And she told me that just as they were closing, Chris brought all the stuff back that we bought. Returned every one of 'em and bought the cheapest stuff they had."

Buck grabbed JD by the coat. "Are you sure? Do you realize what you're sayin'?"

Vin gently pried Buck's fingers from JD's coat. "Chris would never do something like that. Whatever's goin' on, I'm sure he's got a good explanation."

Buck's jaw tightened. "He'd better have."

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"This is all a misunderstanding," Chris repeated. He was seated in the back of a Denver PD squad car, his wrists handcuffed behind his back. They were tight, too, and it wasn't too surprising. Chris knew this cop. He'd gotten the young patrolman in trouble before for not following proper procedures during an investigation. Now it appeared to be Payback Time.

"Sorry, Larabee, but we got witnesses. This time."

Chris scowled. 'This' time. As if there were other times. Christmas Eve and this guy was going to be a pain in the butt, he could tell.

"I get a phone call," he reminded the officer.

"Eventually, yeah."

Chris muttered a curse under his breath. This was going to be a damn long night.

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The caravan of Team 7 vehicles, including a white rented van loaded with purchases, turned back into the parking lot. In no time at all, they had an assembly line of wrapping paper, ribbon, scissors, tape and name tags. They wrapped in silence, working as fast as they could.

It was 11:30 when Vin's cell phone broke the silence.

"Tanner. Damn. You didn't, did you--Well, why--Yes, okay, but why--Dammit, Chris!"

"Was that him?" said Nathan. "What'd he say?"

JD looked up from the package he'd been wrapping. "Well?"

Vin stared at the phone in his hand. "He's in jail," he said in a hollow voice.

Even Ezra was shocked. "What the hell-?"

"He's being held on suspicion of grand theft."

Buck's face clouded. "Did he say he did it?"

"Kind of. I asked him why, but...he hung up on me."

"We gotta get him out of there," said JD. "It's Christmas."

"Let 'im rot," growled Buck. "Serves 'im right."

"Buck--" Nathan began gently.

"They're KIDS, Nathan! He had no right to do that. Need I remind you that we seen 'im at the car dealer's. Musta needed a new truck awful damn bad!"

Vin stood up and pulled on his jacket.

"You're not going to bail him out, are you?"

"He asked me to pick up the toys he got. So that's what I'm going to do."

"But--"

Vin stopped at the door and turned to Buck with a sigh. "Look, it's something more for the kids and it's more than what we've got here, okay? I'll be back and we can wrap that stuff, too."

"Hurry back," said Nathan.

Vin nodded and left. Buck didn't say another word, even after Vin's return, as the team worked far into the night.

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Chris sat back on the cot. Christmas Eve and he was in jail. And for theft. He didn't think anyone would have noticed the missing presents so soon. By then he figured he could explain. Vin had wanted an explanation on the phone, but the patrolman had stood nearby, timing the call by his watch, his hand on the phone ready to cut Chris off. So he'd said what he could say before the call was terminated. He hoped Vin did what he'd asked. They were running out of time.

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The Rocky Mountain Children's Home was abuzz with Christmas spirit. The 50 or so children had made many of the decorations themselves, and they proudly pointed out their creations to the members of Team 7. The only member of team who was missing was Chris. No one had heard from him since the night before, so the way they had figured it, there likely wasn't a judge available to set bail till the day after Christmas, which meant that Chris was going to be there awhile.

They each struggled to set aside their own hurt and confusion at his betrayal, and concentrated on the smiling faces and laughter that echoed off the walls and floors of the building.

They opened each package, one by one. The ones from the drugstore delighted as much as the cheaper toys Chris has scrounged from the toy store. It didn't matter a bit to the children as they oohed and aahed and played.

"What's this," lisped a little boy to Ezra.

"It's a yo-yo. Here. You tie this end around your finger and then...like this... Good! Well, it takes a little practice."

The little boy beamed up at him and hurried off to show his friends.

Finally, the party began to wind down and the hired Santa began to say his good-byes. The guys watched as a young man of about 25 walked in, looking slightly lost. He wore a knitted cap and ski jacket and headed straight for Santa. He whispered something in the jolly old elf's ear and handed him a card. Santa read it and nodded, and the man hurried out of the room.

Team 7 exchanged looks and shrugged.

"Kids," Santa announced. "There's one more present, but it's too big to bring in here. So get your coats and we'll all go outside."

JD approached the Santa. "What's going on?"

Santa winked and lifted up a 5-year-old African-American girl wearing leg braces. "You'll see soon enough, sonny. Let's help get these kids - like Monique here - in their woollies." He tickled the girl and she laughed and squirmed.

The children and their counsellors, accompanied by a perplexed Team 7, followed Santa outside. A flatbed truck was idling by the curb, whatever was on its bed draped with a huge, green tarp and the man in the ski jacket stood nearby it.

"What the hell--" whispered Vin."

"One last gift from Team 7!" Santa announced. The man by the truck gave a yank and the tarp slid off, landing on the street.

Everyone shouted and clapped and Santa turned to the 5-year-old in his arms. "Monique, do you know what that is? Tell everyone what that is, Monique."

The girl's eyes shown, and she pronounced each syllable with extra care. "It's a wheelchair-accessible van!"

One of the counsellors, Jolene- who'd let them in to pile the gifts under the tree - was out of breath. "Oh, my goodness! It's just what we needed! I told Chris just in passing that we needed this more than toys, but I never dreamed--!" She burst into tears and hugged Buck and then Ezra.

The Team stared at the truck, mouths agape, and then at each other, speechless.

"That's from us," JD said in a hushed voice, still staring at their 'gift.'

"You know who really bought that," Ezra pointed out.

"Gentlemen," said Josiah, "I think we should go. We have an inmate to visit on this holiest of days."

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"Larabee," said a voice sharply.

Chris sat up groggily. "Is it the day after Christmas already?"

"Hardly. You got visitors."

The door to his cell was opened and he was led out of the room. To his surprise, he was being led to a conference room and not the visitor's area or any of the interrogation rooms.

He stood in the doorway and stared. His team was there, all of them, and they had brought hot food. Christmas dinner, it looked like, with all the trimmings.

The jailer looked at Chris apologetically. "We can't let you go till the charges are formally dropped by the prosecutor, but Buck said we're all invited if we could make Christmas happen."

Chris looked at his team. "Then you know."

"Yeah, we know," said Buck. "And we're sorry, Chris."

Chris shrugged. "It's tough to be impartial when the party in question is one of us."

"Still," Ezra observed dryly. "It's one heck of a way to spend Christmas Day. Among the bad element."

Chris grinned and held up a cup of coffee in a toast. "Boys...I am The Bad Element."

--The End--


End file.
